Wish You Well
by domina tempore
Summary: "You fed me all that crap about this being where I belong, and how perfect our job is for me; and then you run and hide from this same life? Why?" Tag to "Reset".


**Wish You Well**

_by: jewel of athos_

_Author's Note: I wrote this in a fit of angsty inspiration right after I saw the finale this week. It is by no means my best work; I was venting my own frustrations through Pete. But it has been so long since I've written, I'm posting it anyways. _

_Disclaimer: Warehouse 13 and all of its characters and ideas belong to their rightful owners. I claim nothing except my own original ideas. No copyright infringement intended!_

*~.~**wWw**~.~*

It took Pete nearly two weeks to find an excuse to head out to Washington D.C.; but finally he convinced Artie that it was important and couldn't wait. Armed with nothing but his badge, his Farnsworth, and a death glare, he made it through to the FBI's new director in record time. He burst into the man's office without ceremony, and voiced his question. Loudly.

"Where's Myka?" Alright, so maybe it was more of a demand than a question. But he couldn't afford to be picky about it. 

The man behind the desk looked up with a bored frown.

"Who?"

"_Agent Myka Bering_. She's my partner, I've got to talk to her."

"Myka Bering put in for an extended leave of absence eight days ago, Agent."

"Well can you tell me where she is?" Pete pressed. "This is very important, I _need_ to see her."

"I'm not allowed to give out personal information of employees," he droned. "Even ex-partners. But if you're so desperate to talk to her, you might want to try the telephone."

"Nah, she cancelled her number," Pete mumbled, wracking his brain. "And she wouldn't keep the new one listed. But she's gotta be somewhere…" Ignoring the odd looks that the director was giving him, Pete wandered out of the office and made his way back to his car. He climbed inside and clenched the wheel, as if it would help anchor his thoughts. Where would Myka possibly go? As far as he knew, she really had no good friends outside of the Warehouse. And her family was rather distant…

Her family. The bookstore. _"Bering and Sons"_. Myka would retreat to her childhood refuge of the books. She was in Colorado Springs. "Not if I can help it," he muttered, giving the keys a vicious twist in the ignition. "Not if I can help it…"

*~.~**wWw**~.~*

"Closed?" Pete whispered, staring at the sign on the door with raised eyebrows. That was weird. Myka's parents never closed the bookstore on weekdays. It could have been a fluke. But he was getting crazy vibes from that store; he would bet that his hunch was right, and Myka was there.

"I guess they'll be opening up a little earlier than planned," he muttered, setting his shoulder to the door and heaving.

It gave quite easily, and Pete found himself stumbling though the doorway in an undignified fashion. Myka jumped out of a chair in the corner, dropping the book she had been reading. When she saw who it was who had broken in, she groaned and turned away.

"It wasn't locked, you know," she mumbled, reaching down to pick up her book. Pete nodded, rubbing his shoulder and watching her as she turned back to face him.

"Yeah, I figured," he gritted.

"The sign also said _closed_."

"Well, I figured that the sign didn't really apply to _partners_," he said, snatching a piece of licorice out of a jar on the checkout counter. So she was eating sugar. _She's really stressed_, he realized.

"We're not partners anymore, Pete! Don't you get it? I left! That's why I haven't answered your emails, or your want-adds in the newspapers – by the way, were you actually serious about that? Because that is one of the dumbest things that you have _ever_ done – and why I _changed my number_! I'm done with the Warehouse."

"Without even saying goodbye? After you gave me that stupid pep-talk about how I belonged there, and shouldn't leave just because I was wrong about Kelly? Why did you leave, Myka?" Myka gnawed on a piece of licorice.

"You saw the letter," she mumbled, her left hand reaching up to play with the ends of her hair.

"Yeah, but I want to hear it from you. So tell me why, Myka"

"You know why, Pete! I was the one who let H.G. in, I vouched for her; _I_ was the one who almost let her destroy everything! If it was so easy for her to trick me, then how do you think I'm ever going to be able to trust myself again, let alone anyone else? How can anyone trust me now? I don't belong with the Warehouse anymore, Pete."

"Oh, come on! You fed me that whole load of crap about belonging – "Oh, Pete! This is the perfect job for you, Pete! You should stay. Oh, Pete, you belong here, don't leave us!" – and then you just run away and hide?"

"I never said us," Myka said softly, her voice small in the midst of Pete's loud tirade.

"Don't even give me that. I didn't come here to argue about semantics with you. This is about you being a bigger idiot than I thought it was possible for you to be!"

"Why am I always the idiot, Pete?" she demanded suddenly, eyes flashing. "You were going to leave, too. Why, because I chose to go when you didn't, so that I could protect everybody, am _I_ wrong to want to get away?" Pete grabbed Myka's shoulders and forced her to look him in the eyes.

"You're hiding!" he accused. "I'm not telling you that leaving the Warehouse was right or wrong for you, if it was the right time. But the fact that you just left without even talking to us about things, and that you're running from the place where you _know_ that you belong, means that you've got a whole lot less brains than I ever gave you credit for. And if this one mistake has you running and hiding from everyone who cares about you…well, I guess you deserve some credit. I didn't think that you could ever make me lose my respect for you, and your brains, at the same time. I thought that there would always be something for me to respect about you." There were tears streaming down Myka's cheeks, but for once, Pete didn't back down. He was lying with most of what he had said; blatantly. And he hated it. But she needed to hear it.

Myka wept quietly. "Pete, I can't…I'm not coming back."

"And I'm not here to make you. But before you make the decision to abandon us for good, you might want to take a minute and try thinking about all the people that you're letting down. It might be that they actually forgive you, even though you're clearly incapable of forgiving yourself. I hope that you're happy." Before she could reply, and before he could break down, Pete left, the bells on the door mocking him as it swung closed.

_The door clicked shut, and Myka was alone, standing in the middle of the bookstore with her arms wrapped around herself. Broken. _

Pete blinked away the vision along with a few tears, and kept walking.

*~.~**wWw**~.~*

_fin._

*~.~**wWw**~.~*

_A/N: This is what happens to characters when I get angry…_


End file.
